Shines Like Destruction

by Sage

URL: http://www.area52hkh.net/ass/sage/shines.php
Summary: Jack is asking for it, and so is Daniel

I. Scream Help

He's not really subtle about it. And to a man like Daniel, who makes his living (and sometimes his life) on subtle, Jack might as well walk to the top of Cheyenne Mountain and scream it.

For one, Jack is watching Daniel's facial expressions and body language far closer than he should.

They say abused women watch their husbands like this, trying to predict moods and thoughts. Trying to see when the storm is coming. They try to run away.

Jack, for all that he tries to pass himself off as a practical man, wants to throw himself right into the storm.

When he finally figured Jack out - and god how ashamed he is that it took him that long - he realized that Jack is not complicated. He fakes being simple to hide the fact that he's complicated to hide the fact that, really, he's easy.

Jack can talk all he wants about fishing in Minnesota and retiring. Daniel knows damn well that Jack only feels comfortable in the middle of a storm.

"Two days 'til stand down. Whatcha plannin'?" Jack asks, lacing his boots.

Daniel starts listing dynasty dates in his head so he doesn't smile.

"Well, I thought I'd spend a couple of days in Denver. Dr. Morimato is presenting a paper on the cross-pollination of syntactical functions during the T'ang dynasty," Daniel says.

The horror on Jack's face is priceless.

And maddening.

It makes Daniel a little angry to think that Jack still truly and honestly believes that he does nothing but work all the time.

He ought to ask to Jack if he spends all his down time shooting at things and hiking in the woods.

Okay, so that's a bad example. Because if you added a pole with a string and a dead worm on a hook, that would basically describe Jack's ideal weekend. But Daniel is pretty sure that Jack doesn't fill out forms or eat commissary pie for the hell of it.

Well, except for that one time.

"You could take me up on that fishing," Jack says, smiling and still working on his laces.

Funny how Teal'c isn't nearly as silent when he's trying to sneak past a battalion of Jaffa as he is when he slips behind Jack and out of the locker room.

"Fishing?" Daniel says, scrubbing his hair out his towel and deciding to let it dry naturally.

"Yeah, I mean, it's good to get away. The natural beauty of Minnesota. And the loons. Don't forget the loons," he says, finally switching to the other shoe. "It'll be soothing. Relaxing. You know, get away from all the stress."

"Are you feeling stressed, Jack?" Daniel says.

Jack stops and stares at him. He shakes his head and no matter how much he puts into it, when he says, "No more than usual, why? Have you?", Daniel hears a giant yes in his voice.

"Can you honestly tell me you'd rather be cooped up in some room listening to some Japanese guy go on about people taxing sin than fishing with your best friend?" asks Jack.

"I don't think Sam likes to go fishing," Daniel notes, offhandedly.

Jack blinks for a minute until the light bulb slowly comes to life inside of his head. And his eyebrows lower and he looks a bit like he did when he was a caveman and tried to mate with Sam.

"It would be fun, that's all I'm saying" Jack tells him.

Of course, that's not all he's saying. Because Daniel can see that he's tying the knot on his boot a little slower. That he could have been done dressing ten minutes ago, but he took his time doing everything.

Just to ask this.

"Fun?" Daniel asks, staring into his locker.

"Yeah. We really haven't done anything fun in a while," Jack answers.

Daniel's head in his locker, so nobody can see him frown like he's frowning. Because it's true.

Sam keeps saying that wormholes only go one way, but it seems like every time the Stargate lights up, their lives stop and they get sucked in. No matter which way the wormhole is going.

Daniel calculates in his head how long it's been since the last time. And he thinks about how much Jack needed it the last time.

Daniel tries to imagine going that long without books, without walnut cookies, without Jack.

So he leans back and asks, "You really want me to go fishing with you?"

"No, I really wanted Teal'c, but you'll do in a pinch, I guess," Jack deadpans.

"The lecture is in the morning, so I could you meet you that afternoon. We'd have three days," Daniel says, contemplating his collection of aftershave and deodorant a little closer than is strictly necessary.

Daniel sees Jack's eyes moving, little darts right and left, checking his face to make sure his ears aren't starting to fail.

"Really? Fishing?" Jack asks.

"Yeah, really," Daniel says and shrugs.

The way his face lights up, Jack isn't just a kid in the candy store, he *owns* it.

Let it never be said that Jack O'Neill is subtle. And never let it be said that Daniel Jackson turned away from a friend in need.

After all, Jack was practically screaming for it.

II. Play My Game

So Jack has spent two days like a bloodhound on a scent, and Daniel has spent two days obscuring his trail as best he can. When they're in the briefing, he's thinking about the footage from the MALP. When he's in the locker room, he's thinking about explaining the subtle difference between hockey and violence. When he's waiting by the gate, he's giving the Marines a last minute crash course on what *not* to do around such sensitive and superstitious natives.

He doesn't want to give Jack any footholds.

And Daniel knows the minute that he thinks of it, it's going to show on his face.

So he doesn't think about it.

He rolls right on past Jack, while he's half naked in a towel, and blathers on about carbon dating this and religious ceremonies that.

Jack has no idea that sometimes, Daniel does this specifically to bore him. He knows how to make it interesting when he wants to. He is, actually, a rather good teacher. He knows how to get a room full of bored college freshmen to sit up and take notice of King Tut.

If he wanted to, he could entertain Jack and make it so easy for him.

But he doesn't want to.

He likes it better when Jack has to earn it.

So when 1900 on Thursday rolls around, Jack can't get out of the briefing fast enough. He taps his pen and fingers and feet. He fidgets. He watches the clock. His watch. Daniel's face. And he can't stay still.

Daniel swears Hammond is smiling and maybe even drawing the entire thing out.

When they get done, Daniel is doggedly casual in the way he gathers his things, chit- chats with Sam, and strolls into his office.

Jack shows up in the doorway five minutes after Sam leaves and takes a seat near his computer. He sits there for a while, not saying anything.

"Is there something you need?" Daniel asks. Not that he doesn't know. Not that he isn't a little afraid that Jack is going to close his door, cover the camera, and screw waiting another twenty-four hours.

"No, just thought I'd see if you wanted to get pizza or something. Teal'c and I are watching Star Wars," Jack tells him. "I might even convince Carter to abandon her quarks for a whole day."

Daniel gives him a sideways glance, "Umm, Jack? Not to be rude, but I've got a lot of work to do here. I'll call you if I can make it."

Sometimes, Daniel can be such a snarky bitch, he even scares himself.

Jack looks like he's trying to shrug off a zat blast in the way he stuffs his hands in his pockets and leaves.

Daniel writes instructions for Nyan and everyone else that'll be working while he's on stand down and gets into civilian clothes.

Somehow, Jack ends up on the same elevator with him to the top.

"Jack, are you following me?" Daniel asks, looking at Jack in the same way he'd look at something pickled in a specimen jar.

"No, just going home. Had to, you know, fill out forms and official...stuff," Jack answers, staring at the buttons, the floor, the ceiling.

"Stuff?" Daniel catches the term and uses it against Jack like a nun with a thin ruler.

"Yeah," Jack, says, and rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. "So, we still on for fishing."

The elevator doors open and Daniel thrusts his hands into his pockets and sighs when he says, "Yes, Jack. We're still going fishing."

"I mean, if you don't wanna, I could always ask Teal'c or Carter," Jack tells him, following him all the way out to the parking garage.

"Yes, Jack," Daniel drones in his very best snob-voice, "I still want to go fishing."

"'Cause I mean, if the pollen tax thing is that important -"

Daniel turns around and stops Jack with just a touch on his arm, and in the kindest voice he's used all day, he says, "I'll be done around three. So pick me up about four."

Then he turns around and leaves. He doesn't even give Jack the satisfaction of judging his facial features.

"Or you know, four thirty. I might have stuff to do. You know, stuff. To do."

Daniel waits until he gets into his car before he laughs. And he loves the way Jack doesn't get it, and the way he still makes Jack nervous.

III. Dracula (Let Me Get My Fangs)

Jack knocks on his door at 4:50, wearing old boots and old khakis and a plaid shirt.

Daniel stays at the door long enough to open it and then takes a few steps away before he turns around. He's not wearing anything even remotely rugged and Jack looks slightly confused.

Jack is brighter than he looks, and Daniel knows that he'll get the idea in a few minutes.

"Take off your boots," Daniel says, in a clean voice.

Jack blinks. "Huh?"

"Take off your boots before you come in my house," Daniel repeats and he smiling his most perfect smart-ass smile, just for Jack.

Jack blinks faster. "Oh."

He breaks land records getting his boots off.

"You're late," Daniel chides.

"Just twenty minutes, I told you I might have things to do," Jack replies, removing his socks as well.

"I don't care what you had to do. I said that you would pick me up at 4:30. It's 4:50."

Jack looks down at the floor, "Sorry."

Daniel laughs like he's shocked, "That's it? Sorry?"

"What else do you want?"

Now he *knows* Jack is just playing the part of the idiot. Because Daniel can see him adjusting his already very loose khakis.

"Sorry *sir*, Jack. You wasted my valuable time. And when you waste a person's time like you did, you should say: sorry, *Sir*."

"You want me to call you *sir*?" he asks, still looking more confused than any man as smart as Jack truly is has a right to.

Daniel cocks his head and smiles smart again. He walks right up to Jack, so that he's face to face. And it's one of the few times he actually feels the two inches he's got on Jack.

"You will call me sir. You will not call me Daniel or Spacemonkey or Plantboy or any other cute nickname you come up with. Am I understood?"

"Yes, sir," Jack answers.

Daniel pushes him against the door and holds his shirt in a fist. "I own you, Jack. Anything I want, you do it. So what do you call me?"

Jack nods and Daniel pushes his hip into Jack's.

"Sir, sir, sir," Jack litanies and tries to hump back and his cock is poking Daniel in the thigh.

"And who owns you?"

"You, sir, god, you."

"Yeah, that's right," Daniel says, so sneering and satisfied. He pulls Jack away and can hear how hard Jack is breathing. He turns them around and suddenly his back is against the door and Jack is being pushed to his knees.

Daniel barely has to tell him anything.

Jack knows and Jack wants.

Daniel's hands are in his hair and it's barely long enough to grab, but it's enough to hurt. Enough to be rough, the way his hand is almost crushing the back of Jack's skull.

"Don't stop, don't you *dare* stop," Daniel gasps.

IV. Horseback (Let Me Get My Reins)

The shoulder blades rise out of Jack's back like tiny wings and the scar that traces his left back curves like a snake when he flexes, occasionally twisting.

Skin against leather and the way Jack *groans*.

God, Jack doesn't have an inch of fat on him. Nothing but skin and scars and sparse hair, like the strange brown grasses that sometimes grow in the desert.

Jack's skin like Abydos, a hot, medium pale landscape.

Jack's body like a land he means to conquer.

"Beg for it," Daniel demands.

"Please, sir, please, oh god, sir," Jack gasps.

And Daniel strikes him, right across his ass. The rise of red to the skin is like a miracle, how Daniel can see it happening. Jack remembers to thank him just before he gets angry.

Daniel doesn't wait for the next please to strike again.

Strike.

And the red grows.

Strike.

And Daniel braces a hand on Jack's back.

Strike.

The slap of a leather strap on skin is so sharp and it shocks Jack every time. God, he's like an animal this way. The way his skin seems so thin and the muscles move under it. The way he lifts and turns his head. The way his weight is all on his arms and he seems determined to push his shoulder into the bedpost.

"You want it so bad," Daniel grinds out, between harsh breaths and clenched teeth. And smacks him again with the strap, in a different place. Careful that Jack doesn't get numb. "God, you beg for it."

Jack can't and won't and doesn't say anything, just almost screams the next time Daniel hits him.

With his hand.

It stings in a way that tells Daniel's there's pain, but doesn't really hurt. Like his nervous system isn't paying attention. And he slaps again. And again.

It doesn't matter that it hurts his hand. The point is that he's more than strong enough to do it for as long as he wants. For as long as Jack can stand to take it.

"Please," Jack begs and lifts his head. Daniel can hear the edge of something that maybe is a sob or a shudder of a breath. Not that he has to care or even wants to.

There can't be any caution. Because they aren't being careful, they aren't being safe.

Smack as hard as he can with his hand, the strap, whatever he wants. He can make Jack scream whenever he wants. Nobody to stop him, tell him no.

Because this belongs to him. Jack belongs to him. Because he wants Jack screaming and begging. He wants Jack broken and sobbing and desperate to twist out of the restraints.

He wants Jack wild and alive and underneath him. Nobody can tell this man what to do, can make him obey and plead and moan. Nobody but Daniel.

And the way Jack pushes into Daniel's grip on his back and waits, waits for Daniel to make him do something. Waits for an order.

The possibilities as open as the Abydonian sky and god, the first time he's felt this free in so long. Too many days in windowless mountains, stifled and biting down on his tongue. Scream. Curse. Strike.

Everything he isn't supposed to have or want is there. Waiting for him to take it.

So he does.

Little fast strokes and bracing on Jack so hard he's gonna leave bruises and still smacking Jack.

And it's like all the thunder and rain clouds are all in his head and he isn't even sure where he's spiraling, but he refuses to stop. He's gonna ride the storm like he rides Jack. Ride so hard into the blackness behind eyes, ride until there's nothing left of either of them.

V. Schoolteacher (Let Me Get My Brains)

Daniel studies the red marks around Jack's wrists, the ones that will disappear under his skin tone and hair in a few hours. He isn't sure if Jack is asleep or not. Sometimes Jack can lay so still that Daniel thinks he's asleep, and then he'll suddenly say something.

He always gets surprised by the little things that Jack can do.

Jack opens his eyes slowly and looks over at Daniel.

"You should get some sleep, we're going fishing tomorrow," he says with a smile.

"And this entire time, I thought fishing was just a buzzword for sex," Daniel replies, smiling.

No, he probably won't mind doing that.

"Well, that's disappointing. If I'm just going to have hot stinky sex for three days," Jack says, with his eyes closed now.

"Did I bruise you?" Daniel asks, turning over onto his stomach.

"Probably, I haven't checked yet. Why?" asks Jack.

"Well, I didn't mean to hurt you," Daniel says.

"You beat me with a leather strap, but you weren't trying to hurt me?" Jack inquires, pulling up on his arms and staring down at Daniel.

Daniel nods. "Well, no, in that way, not physically."

"And how exactly did you plan to torture my mind by tying me to the bed?"

"You know what I mean. I didn't mean to injure you."

Jack lays back down and closes his eyes. "Do you regret what we did?"

Daniel sits up, not sure what it is that bothers him so much. "No. God, no. What would make you -"

"Then don't apologize for it, Daniel," Jack says. "It's okay to enjoy it."

"I wasn't apologizing, Jack. I was just saying that -"

"You got surprised, didn't you? You thought this was for me, and it was more about you than you expected it to be. You let go, and you liked it. And you thought things that were all wrong and you didn't care. Don't be sorry for that. "

Daniel doesn't answer for a long time and when he lays down, Jack is so still he looks like he's asleep.

It's amazing the little things Jack can do.